


You're something beautiful

by charlottefrey



Series: cf's Advent Calendar 2015 [20]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Alexander is a terrible date, Gaby and Illya are waiter-bros, I have zero knowledge about wine because anti-alcoholic, M/M, Napoleon is a smug bastard.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 00:28:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5476259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlottefrey/pseuds/charlottefrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Napoleon hates crappy dates. Fortunatly he has them a lot. But Alexander is the worst so far. Thankfully a handsome distraction is nearby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're something beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea about wine at all, i never have even drank it. (apart from met (honey wine)).  
> Anyway, i am sorry for the massive delay, but we drove all the way from my hometown down to switzerland today, so i had little to no time.

20 You’re my waiter and I’m on a really crappy date with an asshole ([XX](http://notallbees.tumblr.com/post/105994550160/au-scenarios-were-bad-at-dating-edition))

* * *

 

Napoleon frowned. Not only was his date a total asshole also he was talking so much bullshit, it hurt to fucking listen. Alexander Vinciguerra was a lot like Napoleon himself. Serial Womanizer, good looking, rich, popular and they had visited the same private school.

But at one point they clashed. And that was personality. Though man might say, that both were terribly vain and stupid, Napoleon was just faking it.

   “So I was walking down the road and there was this pretty girl and…” Fortunately the arrival of their waiter interrupted Alexander from finishing his (presumably terribly sexist) story.

   “Good evening, I am Illya, your waiter for tonight. Here are the menus. Todays special is beef in a citron sauce.” Illya bowed his head a little. “I will return in a few minutes.” Then he left with another bowed head.

   “Rude.” Alexander said.

   “How so?” Napoleon said with little interest, already counting the minutes until he would leave the restaurant.

   “He didn’t even ask if we wanted to drink something?”

   “Well, maybe because we haven’t seen the menu…” The American let his eyes roam over the offered appetizers and ingored Alexander’s rant on how terrible this waiter was. He noticed though that some of the other guests gave Alexander rank looks. Napoleon was relieved from ignoring his date, when Illya returned.

   “Have you decided?” He asked gently, but buisnesslike.

   “I’ll have the spicy shrimp as an appetizer and today’s special as a main. What would you recommend as a wine to go with this meal?” While Illya suggested some open wines, Napoleon was left to appreciate the man’s beauty. He was extremely handsome. When the waiter ended with his recommendations, Napoleon nodded.

   “I’ll take the white wine with the appetizer and the rosé with the main dish.”

   “Good choice, the rosé is a personal favourite of mine.” Illya said with a tiny smile. But their precious little moment was interrupted by Alexander rudely telling the waiter what he would eat and drink. Illya flinched a little at Alexander’s wine choice but didn’t utter a word.

   “Well, I will return soon with your appetizers.” Illya smiled gently and left.

 

-|-|-|-|-|-|-

 

   “I have a rude table.” Illya said when he stood in the safety of the kitchen with Gaby, who was one of the ten waiters working with him.

   “Rude in what way.” Gaby said and played with her earrings.

   “It’s a date I think. The tall one is really nice and apparently doesn’t really like his date. The other is rude and he ordered a white wine with his pasta!” Gaby’s mouth fell open.

   “No way.” Illya shrugged, having his fate accepted already. “But the nice one, is he hot.” The Russian flushed a little.

   “Yes.” He said, slightly meek.

   “Then we will ruin this date a little.” Gaby grinned.

   “Gaby.” But the woman shut her friend up. 

   “You know that Waverly wouldn’t care either way. We will be subtle about it. Give him let’s say one of the bad plates, you know.” Gaby winked at him. With a sigh, Illya bowed to her plan.

 

-|-|-|-|-|-|-

 

As the evening continued, Napoleon noticed that Alexander seemed pout even more. Their waiter was still friendly, especially to Napoleon who praised the appetizer beyond anything, while Alexander frowned over his cold-ish plate. But Napoleon ignored him and his dump stories, more of less entertaining himself with watching Illya’s comings and goings.

When the main course was served, another waiter joined Illya, a petit woman with long brown hair, who introduced herself as Gaby. She gave Napoleon a long look before she smiled and hurried away with a slightly flushed Illya. Somehow Alexander managed to spill wine over his plate and another glass was brought.

   “This is an outrage!”

   “What? You not being able to drink properly?” Napoleon said with a bored face, taking up a bite from his beef. Illya handed another glass of wine over to Alexander, grinned with one side of his mouth, but caught himself quickly. Alexander looked at the American as if he was choking on his meal.

But Napoleon simply continued to eat, trying to make the best out of the wasted evening. He flirted with Illya whenever he passed until Alexander stood up, rustling the plates and glasses. Napoleon narrowly rescued his plate from being flooded by the vase’s contents. White roses and ivy don’t mix well with beef.

   “You are a terrible date!” Alexander shouted and as if someone had turned off the power, all conversations died down.

   “Aha.” The American looked up, bored, uninterested, as if all this was only a farce. Which it may was.

   “You don’t pay attention to what I am saying…”

   “Because apparently neither do you. I have no desire at all to listen to a man-child brag about how many women he had cat-called the other day or how he insulted the new cashier at Gucci as a faggot, which I by the way don’t really understand, why faggot, if you are gay yourself. I am here to have a nice meal, flirt a little with the waiter, pay my cheque, leave my number and go home.” Napoleon smiled coldly.

“And that’s what I intend to do.” And with that, he continued to eat, ignoring the mute Alexander standing at the table until he turned away with a huff and stomped out of the restaurant. The conversations soon returned to normal, though there was still the odd look over to him. But he ignored it.

   “How was your meal?” Illya asked when he materialized by Napoleon’s elbow. The American looked up and smiled broadly.

   “It was great. But I think I should head home. If you’d be so kind to bring the cheque.” Illya smiled in reply and took the plate along with the cutlery.

   “I will be back in a moment!” He said. While Napoleon waited, he finished his wine. When Illya came back, he put down the small plate and Napoleon took the cheque. A small card became visible, but it was no usual restaurant card.

It was silver-white card with one number and one name on it. Napoleon smiled, pulled hi own personal card out, put it down, counted some money on the plate and indicated towards the waiting Illya. Smugly he obviously tucked the card into his jacket pocket and pointed on the plate:

   “All yours.”

 

* * *

 

 

For more stuff [visit my blog](http://charlotte-frey.tumblr.com/tagged/Advent%20Calendar%202015)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, giving kudos and commenting!


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